


L is for Luna Lovegood

by fall_aster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fall_aster/pseuds/fall_aster
Summary: Ginny Weasley is going back to her 6th year at Hogwarts without Harry and she’s not going to just sit around and mope.





	1. King's Cross

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see how this goes...
> 
> Just trying to make Harry Potter a little gayer.

September 1st  
Today marked my sixth time going to Kings Cross Station to board the train at platform 9 ¾ that would take me to Hogwarts. This time my slightly worn robes and scuffed shoes matched my unkempt hair and the dark smudges under my eyes. My trunk was half packed. It was almost laughable how worried I had been about forgetting things back in first year. My parents kept an even tighter grip on me now than they had back then. In a way, not much had changed, except for the presence of masked death eaters standing guard on the platform.

  
I glanced up at my mother. Molly Weasley kept looking around the platform, one hand on my arm and the other in her pocket holding her wand.

  
“Mum, you can let go of me. I have to load my trunk onto the platform,” I said.

  
“Hm,” Mrs. Weasley looked at her daughter. “What did you say dear?”

  
“It’s time for me to get on the train now, Mum.” I tugged myself away from her. Quieter I said, “Ron’s not going to show up.”

  
Mrs. Weasley stopped looking around and sighed.

  
“Ginny’s right you know. The train is about to leave,” Arthur Weasley addressed his wife.

  
“Yes, yes.” Mrs. Weasley stood up straighter. “Alright Ginny. You are coming home for Christmas. And send us a letter every week. No excuses this year.”

“Yes Mum,” I responded. “It really won’t be that long. I’ll be fine.”

“We will come take you home in a heartbeat, just send word,” Molly said. She hugged me tightly. The two of us both trying to absorb each other’s comfort incase this was the last time, though neither of us said it out loud.

I turned towards my father. His hug was shorter and brisker, but no less emotional. I turned to faced the train and my trunk. Molly and Arthur hugged each other as they watched their daughter board. I glanced back as the final call was announced. I knew if I started crying now, I would not stop, and I needed to be prepared for whatever was awaiting me at Hogwarts. I knew wouldn’t be good, especially not with that murderer as headmaster.

 

 

Walking into the great hall without any of my brothers was surreal. I felt more alone than I had since he had and -- well since he left. I tried to keep myself from thinking about Harry. Harry was supposed to be walking me in, holding my hand. I wanted to be that disgusting couple everyone was secretly jealous of. Though not a repeat of Ron and Lavender, never a repeat of that. I’m still not sure what Ron was thinking about her. Instead, I was walking into the great hall, my head held as high as possible so I could pretend to ignore the fact no one was talking to me. I had spent the train ride stuffed in a compartment of third years. They ignored me and I ignored them. It worked, but didn’t make me feel very good about myself. Walking down to the Gryffindor table, I found Neville. Good old Neville. He was my date to the Yule Ball so many years ago now. We had hooked up a few times back them, though I’m sure none of his friends ever suspected. But, by now we were just friends.

“Hey Neville,” I said as I slid into the bench. “Was your summer alright?” Though before asking I knew no one’s summer had been alright.

“Oh, hi Ginny,” he said. “You know, the same as everyone else’s.”

I nodded, I knew the feelings of dismay very well. By the end of this year, no one would be exempt from loss and dismay. None of us could admit it yet. I still can’t think of Mad Eye without tearing up, though never in front of anyone else.

I glanced up at the staff table after Neville and I didn’t have anything else to talk about anymore. I still didn’t know who were the new professors. McGonagall was holding strong. We would need her. But I could see her cringing away from Snape. Fucking Snape. That he gets to sit in the headmaster’s chair is despicable. He looks sickenly proud up there. His trademark sneer scanning the great hall. I had to stop looking at him or my loathing would start to steam out of my ears hot enough to burn. The other new faces at the front table I knew were death eaters and my god, they didn’t look pretty.

Snape stood and gestured for silence. Not that he needed to, everyone was already stock still. The side doors opened and out came the group of first years. It was a much smaller group than usual; no muggleborns would have received their letter this year. Also more scared than usual no doubt. The sorting hat was place on the chair by McGonagall It looked more worn out and shabby than ever. It opened up its brim and began to sing.

The song was again a unity march, without being as obvious as last year. All of us, even the sorting hat would have to be careful what we say under the new regime and the watchful eyes of Snape. I wondered how much job security a sorting hat could have. How many replacements were there? Or would we ever get to a time where there was no more sorting and only Slytherin remained. I shivered at the thought.

By the time the food appeared on the plates, as delicious as ever, everyone but the Slytherins ate in near silence. A few whispered exchanges here and there. A few shouts down the tables to check in with friends, verifying who was able to come back this year and who was even still alive at all. I could barely eat anything, who knows what Ron and Harry were eating right now. I don’t even know they were alive. By the time dessert arrived, I was almost crying. Treacle Tart. His favorite was being mauled and dug into by ungrateful first years. I just stare at it for what much be twenty minutes, watching the tart slowly get eaten, focusing hard enough to keep the tears behind my eyes. I never used to be a crier. I think Neville noticed. He was always perceptive in those ways.

Snape stood up and the food vanished. I wondered what he could possibly say. Everyone knew how he had gotten his job. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts,” he drawled. “For too long professors at Hogwarts have slid by with mediocracy. This year will set a new tone for Hogwarts under the direction of our two new professors: Alecto Carrow who will be taking over muggle studies and Amycus Carrow for defense against the dark arts, both of which are now mandatory for all students. Rule breaking will not be tolerated this year, neither will ineptitude.”

I guess I was expecting that. The Carrows, they were death eaters. They were here the night Dumbledore died. It’ll be a new year with no kindness given out and where Slytherins can rain supreme. All the death eater brats could be kings of the castle and wouldn’t have to hide their plans to join up after school.


	2. Neville's Arms

I walked slowly with Neville back to the common room. The first years, even with everything else, were still excited. Who could blame them? There were all only eleven. Though, I suppose I was eleven when I first met You Know Who. My first year was a balance between enjoyment and utter terror, not of Tom, but of being caught. It’s probably why I don’t have too many friends in my year, they were meeting each other while I was writing blood messages on the walls. That and my obsession with the older kids, specifically Harry. And by the time I stopped following him around, everyone was too busy slut shaming me for my constant stream of boyfriends, not that I regret that though, those boys all served a purpose. Some of them had maybe been questionable, but they were all fun.

Neville and I left each other at the common room, him up his staircase and me up mine. I imagine his room will be pretty lonely. It’s only him and Saemus this year with Dean also on the run because he can’t verify any blood status. In my dormitory, only one person is missing. I changed quickly, watching the three of them talking about the first day back. In a terrible way I wish more people were gone so I could be alone. Alone with my worry, selfishly. Because in some way or another all of us here are together, alone with our worries. The rest of them will spend the year together, comforting and crying with each other. I’ll be invited but only as an afterthought, a courtesy concession.

I couldn’t fall asleep. I felt suffocated by the terror and tension that had been continually present since I got on the Hogwarts Express this morning. I slowly crept out of bed. It must have been close to 3am. I pulled on a dressing gown over my school issued dumpy pajamas. I started walking down to the common room. It was empty, a fact I was immensely grateful for. I didn’t have a plan, but as I glanced around my eyes laid on the boys’ staircase and I knew immediately. 

I would be using him. 

Entering the room I cast a muffliato charm on the only other occupied bed. I hoped we could be using each other. He’s the only one left. Well the only decent one of my exes left anyways. I pulled back the covers and closed the curtains on his four poster bed before waking him. 

“Neville, neville,” I said gently shaking his sleeping form. 

He grumbled as he turned to look up at me. “Ginny?” He whispered, “what are you doing in my bed?!?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And I didn’t want to be alone.” I met his eyes

He silently moved over and I sank down next to him, sighing into the mattress. He reached his hands around my back as I faced him, my legs slowly met his and we pushed closer. His hand rubbed slow circles on my shoulder blades as I rested my head on his chest. 

“It’s hard being back without anyone else,” I said into his chest.

“I know,” he muttered, “I know,” he continued to sooth me.

“And I won’t know if anything happens to him.”

“No news is good news, because we will definitely hear if he gets captured. They won’t be able to keep that quiet.”

We were now on the subject of Harry, the last subject I wanted to talk about right now. I turned away from him, not willing to let Neville interpret whatever my face was doing right now. Neville’s hand fell off my back stopping his slow circles. Harry had always been a sore spot for us in the past and I didn’t want that added tension. I had to stop thinking. I rolled back over. Then, I started kissing him, needing something, anything so that everything I was didn’t come apart. 

“Ginny?” He pulled back. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

This was the point at which I should have stopped, he was giving me an out, I didn’t need to be an emotional mess, but I didn’t stop. I kept kissing him, “do I need to know?”

“I’m not him.”

“Do you not want to?”

“I,” he faltered, “yes, but do you? With me I mean?”

I ignored that and he stopped asking. I pulled him into me, slowly working off his clothes. His shirt was barely over his shoulders and still around his neck when I started kissing his chest. He lost his reservations soon after that and by the time I got his pants down to his ankles, and he was gone. I didn’t register what I was doing, I was so used to the motions of pleasure it was like turning my brain off. He felt of nothing and tasted of nothing. His gasps acted like a timer counting his heartbeat speeding up and mine slowing down. I withdrew when he came, letting him ride the waves on his own. He was panting hard, still tangled in his clothes, lying with his hands pressed up against the headboard before he realized I was entirely dressed, though disheveled and with the hem of my nightdress inching up. 

He tried to reach his hands down to pull it off of me, but I held him back. It wasn’t the time for me to lose control. If I did, who knew what would happen. Instead I replaced his hands with mine, slipping off my underwear, but leaving on the dress. It wasn’t very long anyways. I climbed up astride his torso, by body leaving behind more wetness than I would have expected. As I slipped onto him my dress pooled around us both, covering where we met. I kept up a rhythm, setting our pace slow and steady. Once or twice Neville started to speed up, but I brought him back down. 

I ended up climaxing anyways. Maybe I had picked a too thoughtful guy. My brain hardly felt the addition of his hands, but my body apparently did. The physical release matched with an emotional release and I started crying as I pulled off him. My tears falling out of me in great big coughs as my body finished twitching with the last of my orgasm. 

I stayed the night, more for Neville than for me. He slipped back on his night clothes and I turned into him. I was more at peace here then I would be back in my dormitory. I still couldn’t sleep and my tears hadn’t dried yet, but I let him hold me and it was nice for a while.


End file.
